


Stairway to Heaven

by seasons_of_supernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Kiss, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasons_of_supernatural/pseuds/seasons_of_supernatural
Summary: Neither Dean nor Castiel thought they'd see themselves at a "retro" themed school dance.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Stairway to Heaven

Castiel was lost, even more so than normal.

He wasn’t about to get up and dance. That was out of the question, especially at a place like this. He could, he supposed, join the small crowd gathered around the food table, but that would require talking to people, something that Cas preferred to avoid. Feeling isolated, he searched the crowd for someone to talk to. Anyone who might be familiar.

 _No, that was a lie._ He was searching for Dean; it was as simple as that.

He could have stayed home and watched Netflix in his dorm. Hell, he could have gone out with his roommate, gotten some use out of his fake ID and grabbed a few drinks. But no. For some god-forsaken reason, Castiel was at a school dance, listening to a poorly written, out-of-style pop song and watching unfamiliar faces, hoping against hope that Dean would show.

Cas sighed to himself. It probably wasn’t normal to only have one person to rely on. Then again, since when was anything he ever did normal?

"Cas!" Someone wolf-whistled, bringing Castiel's attention to a voice in bleachers.

 _Thank god._ Cas practically sprinted to the bleachers, desperate to get away. “Hello, Dean,” he panted, trying not to seem quite so out of breath.

“Hey,” Dean said with an easy smile. “You looked lost.”

Cas nodded in reply, still anxious but slightly more relaxed. (God, why did Dean, of all people, relax him?)

“What’s up?”

Cas had spent the last half hour searching the crowd for Dean, but he wasn’t about to admit that. He shrugged, unsure of what to say.

Dean nodded in understanding and motioned for Cas to sit beside him. “Kind of a bust, isn’t it?”

Cas sat down. “It’s a bit...overwhelming,” he admitted.

“And, I mean, they call this music?” Dean laughed dryly at the cheesy ballad blasting through the speakers, something about dying young or living forever.

“Yeah,” Cas mumbled, smiling at the ground. As far as music, Dean’s taste included classic rock and not much else. Castiel's taste was more, well, classical. Neither genre was likely to be played at a school dance in 2018.

The two were silent for a moment. Cas’s eyes rested on Dean, who looked away. Blushing? No. Not Dean. Not Dean Winchester.

And yet…

“Okay, that’s weird,” Dean murmured.

Cas snapped out of his daze. “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking down.

Cas waited for Dean to reply, but instead, he said nothing, leaving the two in an uncomfortable silence.

 _Silence._ How could it possibly be silent? The students were gathered on the dance floor, cheering as the song faded out and a new one started up. This one started quiet, with just a guitar, and Cas knew immediately that it was different. A different energy. The lights seemed dimmer than before, and although Cas couldn't see the DJ well, it almost looked like he was grinning, like he knew something no one else.

A smile began to spread across Dean’s face, a mixture of shock, amusement, and satisfaction. “You know this song?” Cas asked.

Dean gave Cas a look like he was the stupidest person alive. “Stairway to Heaven!” At Cas’s blank stare, he continued, “Led Zeppelin? Come on, tell me you’ve heard--”

“No, I have,” Cas hastily interrupted, blushing. “I mean, um--I’ve heard of the song, I think--”

Dean put a hand on Cas’s shoulder and Cas shoved down the jump in his stomach. “Listen. This is real music, not cheesy eighties shit.”

"Should we dance?"

Dean hesitated.

 _Wrong, that was wrong._ "We don't have to--"

"No, come on. Let's do it."

 _What the hell was going on?_ Dean Winchester didn't dance. Castiel didn't dance. What exactly did they think they were doing?

The two made their way onto the now sparsely populated dance floor. Was it hot? Cas felt his face go red and prayed that, in the dim lighting, Dean wouldn't notice.

Dean raised his eyebrows. He noticed.

Cas glanced around at the couples, who, with the exception of those with their tongues in each others mouths, seemed to be slow-dancing. Clearly, they were all, well, couples, which wasn't exactly--

"We doing this, or...?" Dean asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Cas met Dean's eyes. "I, ah--"

"Never done this before?”

Cas somehow blushed even more furiously.

“Me neither,” Dean admitted, and without another word, he put his hands on Cas’s waist, and Cas placed his on Dean’s shoulders. The room was hot, and their dancing was clumsy at best But neither pulled away. Dean seemed to be enjoying this, much to Castiel’s surprise. Then again, Dean seemed to be full of surprises tonight.

“ _There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold, and she’s buying a stairway to heaven._ ” Dean sang along under his breath, making Cas wonder if Dean knew he could hear. It was captivating.

Cas had always found humanity beautiful, a sentiment that few others seemed to echo, though maybe that was his anthropology major talking. He loved the little quirks that made someone stand out, little things that everyone had, that proved they were truly alive. The moments when we think no one is watching, or when we simply don’t care--those are the moments that show who we are. And this was no exception.

Their eyes met, making turn away instinctively, resolving to focus on the spot just above Dean’s shoulder, while Dean stared at the ground beyond Cas. Eye contact was too much. And yet, despite their initial inhibitions and awkward staring, this was...nice. Something about it was peaceful, knowing that neither would judge the other. Comforting. Safe. They swayed back and forth to the music, Dean singing quietly and Cas in silence, doubts fading by the second.

“Dean?”

Dean lifted his gaze to meet Cas. The room was alight, not spinning but shifting and moving as though it were alive somehow. “Yeah?”

Cas took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but nothing came out.

“Cas, what is it?” Dean’s voice held a hint of worry, a worry that, whenever he let it show, always took Cas by surprise, always put him just a bit on edge. Dean Winchester, the bad boy, leather jackets and cigarettes, everything about him oh so _devil-may-care_. All of that went away when he and Cas were alone.

And before Cas even what he was doing, he leaned up and kissed him.

Quickly. Softly. If you blinked, you might miss it.

But real.

Cas pulled back. Dean’s face was unreadable until finally he let out a chuckle and whispered under his breath, “Dammit, Cas.”

Why, why, why did he do it, why? He shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t have--his heart pounded in his chest. _Oh, god, I fucked up, I fucked up._ Words began to tumble out of Cas’s mouth, trying to form some variant of an apology. “Dean, I--I’m sorry, I should never have--”

And then, without warning, Dean kissed him back.

Cas melted into it, eyes closed, gripping him tight, barely remembering to breathe, almost too lightheaded to stand, because here, right here, right now--oh, God, Dean was kissing him, him, it was him, them, together--words faded, everything faded, everything except for him, Dean, and the music. Dean pulled him closer, tighter, like if he let go for a second, it would be gone, gone forever. And in a way, it would. Moments were fragile, and beautifully so.

The room began to spin, Cas leaning on Dean, begging him, _don’t let me go, don’t let me fall--please, don’t let me fall_. Hours passed, or maybe only a few seconds, or maybe no time at all. Cas couldn't tell anymore.

Dean drew back. “Cas,” he breathed, dazed, breathless. “Cas--”

“Let’s get out of here,” Cas murmured, heart pounding.

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here,” Dean echoed.

And with that, they flew into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> ...can you tell i wrote this two years ago when i had a maybe-crush on someone with whom i danced to this song? oh well.


End file.
